Years Gone Passed
by Twitch Hopeless-Savage
Summary: Our past dictates our future. The war has begun and the past will play as much part as the present. Can Harry and company learn to deal wiht the past in order to move on? Contains slash. RemusxSirius.
1. Prologue

Years Gone Passed-

Prologue:

A dark cold wind blew restlessly across the manicured lawn of the cemetery. Foreboding clouds were moving in from the north blocking the warming rays from the afternoon sun. Rain was inevitable.

But that didn't seem to bother a lone figure standing in front of a plain gravestone. He had messy black hair and emerald eyes that seemed as dark and stormy as the skies above him.

He was almost a stone himself. Not a single emotion flicked across his face, or a tear fall from his eyes. He could've been mistaken for a statue if not for the fact that he was kept muttering to a small mirror in his hands.

"Sirius," he whispered, "If you can here me please answer. I miss you Sirius." The pain in his voice more than made up for his stoic features.

Frustrated he stuck the mirror into his coat pocket and stared at the inscription on the tomb.

__

Snuffles

The Order had not been able to put anything else on it. Sirius was still a wanted man and if the Ministry found the gravestone with his name and birth –date on it then they could easily traced to the Order.

Even though the Ministry believed Voldermort was back they still refused to believe that Sirius was innocent.

So Sirius' empty grave sat there in the desolate graveyard where no one but his friends would ever know whom Snuffles really was.

Harry's green eyes widened as a story unfolded in his mind's eye.

A young woman with grief woven about her soul. She had just lost her young child and the sight of his little coffin being lowered into the ground was too much for her to handle. Under the guise of needing some time to herself she solemnly made her way through the graveyard.

First she found herself at the small still pond that rested beneath an apple tree. It was spring and a fresh sweet breeze blew the small pink apple blossoms onto the surface of the glassy water.

She stared into the water and saw a ghost of herself lost beneath its dark depths, all alone. Refusing to see herself like that the women got down on her knees and tried to scoop up her soul in the palm of her quivering hand but it just strained through.

She's lost and no one can save her now. With her mantle of grief about her the young mother strolled sorrowfully through the rows of graves creating a story for a name, creating a person, a face.

When she reached Sirius' all she saw was the word Snuffles. No face will go with this; no story will unfold itself. And thus Sirius Black fades into the bitter darkness of time only remembered as the murderer who got away.

Harry wiped his hot tears away on the sleeve of his jacket. The wind's cold breath blew through his black hair.

A drop of rain fell onto the lens of his glasses. Another followed it, then another, and another. Harry's anger and sorrow and been sharpened to a point. Together they ripped through the seams of the clouds and unleashed its tears.

Harry just stood there in the thickening rain as water soaked into his clothes and rolled down his shivering face.

A streak of lightning flashed across the sky.

Harry stared up at the sky and screamed, but the roar of thunder drowned him out. Breaking into tears he collapsed onto the muddy ground.

His glasses were flung off his face and smashed into tiny pricks of piercing glass on Sirius' gravestone.

His tears mixed with the mud. Some believe his grief seeded the single black rose that forever blooms at the foot of Sirius' tomb.

"I miss you Sirius," Harry choked slamming his fist into the mud. "Why'd you have to leave me like this!"

Another flash of lightning quickly followed by a roll of thunder. "WHY!?" Harry shouted.


	2. Chapter one

Chapter One:

Harry looked down at the box in front of him. It was ragged and smelled of mold and years gone passed.

"What's in it?" he looked up at Remus. There was a tear in the corner of his eye. Quickly Lupin wiped it away on the sleeve of his patched robe and smiled sadly at Harry.

"It's just a bunch of James and Sirius' old school stuff. Notebooks, clothes, textbooks... I thought you'd like to have it."

Harry's gaze whipped back to the box. "How come I've never seen this before?"

"I've only just found it," Remus sniffed caressing the box lightly. "It was hidden beneath the floorboards of Sirius' old bedroom. I hadn't the heart to look at it myself. Not that there is much point. I knew them both. But you... well you never really had a chance to get to know either of them so I thought this would be a good way to have that chance."

"Thanks," Harry whispered. He felt tears sting his already blood shot eyes. Lupin patted his arm in a caring manner.

"It's okay to cry Harry. It's doesn't make you any less of a man."

"I just miss them so much," the tears cascaded freely down his face. Lupin wrapped his arms around Harry.

"I do too. I do too," Lupin whispered as his owns sorrow rolled down his cheeks and dripped into Harry's messy black hair. He reached up his hand and rubbed the back of Harry's head. "But even so Harry we must still remain strong. As Dumbledore said it's Voldermort's gift to spread hurt and discord and this war has only just begun. We can't allow him the pleasure of knowing he's really hurt us. Many more lives will be lost but that's the price for freedom sometimes. I wish it wasn't so but we've been backed into a corner."

Harry pulled away. He wiped the snot and tears off on his robe. "I'm sorry," he looked at the huge tearstain on Remus' chest.

Lupin looked down, his own tears dissipating. "Oh that doesn't matter. I've spilt worse on this old thing."

Harry laughed, but the sadness still remained in his piercing green eyes.

Remus ruffled his hair with a fatherly affection. "Well I'll leave you three to get to know each other," he said, walking across the creaking floorboards. "See-ya Harry." Lupin shut Harry's door behind him and Harry heard his footsteps moving down to the foyer.

"What a bunch a sissies," chuckled a rather cruel voice. Harry looked over at the wall to a painting that was usually empty. Only now there sat Phineas Nigellus ex-Headmaster of Hogwarts. He had a pointed beard and donned the Slytherin colours.

"Hello Phineas," Harry said sullenly. Unfortunately he had become accustomed to the painting's random visits to his bedroom.

"I still don't see what Albus sees in you. You carry the fate of us all and here your are crying on another mans shoulder. Of course I knew from the first second that I saw that you were just a little cream puff without an ounce of man in that skinny body of yours. But _still_ I had hoped you wouldn't go down that road. Now all you're fit for is hosting tea parties _not_ for saving the world from an evil dark lord. Leave that job to the _real _men."

Harry stood up tall and tried to wipe the redness from his face. "I was not crying," he objected glaring at the portrait.

Phineas shook his head. "You could at least take some responsibility. That's one virtue that _every _kind of man should have regardless of who he enjoys to shag. So be a man Potter. Were you crying?"

"Yes," Harry muttered wishing he could tear Phineas' canvas to shreds.

"There that wasn't so hard now was it? Remember Potter always take responsibility and your life will be better off for it. No one likes a liar."

"Thanks," Harry said, not really appreciative of the life lesson he was being taught.

"Oh it's absolutely pointless! Back when I was Headmaster the boys all had a sense of honour. They may have been absolute prats but they still knew how to be men. Nowadays boys never grow-up. Oh they might look grown-up but they are still a kid inside. You know why that is Potter?"

"No sir," Harry wished Phineas would go away so he could open the box.

"Because we're treating you all too soft. Now we have spells for most everything and more men aren't having to work hard to make a living. They never have a chance to build character. I say we drop them all out on a deserted island with no wands and then we'll see how they turn out. Probably be more appreciative of what they have and not always want more."

"You sound like Filch," Harry said before he could stop himself.

"Ahh Filch is a good man if ever I've seen one. He really knows the meaning of a hard days work."

Harry snickered at the thought of Filch being a nice man. He could just see it.

"Flowers for everyone," he would scream running down the aisles between the house tables tossing daisies to everyone.

"Don't know why I even bother," Phineas stroked his beard. "Just remember no good comes from dwelling on the past."

They were back to the crying.

"Sirius is dead Harry. Nothing can change that. Not crying, not anything. Don't listen to that rubbish old wolfy was spouting. It's never good to cry. Never."

"Yeah sure," Harry blew Phineas off.

"Ungrateful little wretch. Just tell Lupin that Dumbledore is calling together a meeting. It's urgent."

"What's so urgent?" Harry asked, his inquisitive nature interested.

"It's none of your damn business! Now tell him!"

"Fine I'll tell him. You don't need to get all mean about it." Harry said defensively.

"Pouf," Phineas said disappearing from the frame.

"And I'm not a pouf!" Harry screamed at the wall.

"Whatever you say," said Phineas' voice now only a whisper on the wind.

Harry flipped him off while opening his door. He walked quietly onto the landing not wanting to wake Sirius' mum. The door slammed behind him making Harry tense, but nothing happened. The house remained quiet. Not a single breath could be heard. Remus and Harry were there alone.

The Order was out working on whatever missions they had been assigned. Ron and Hermione were out at lunch with Fred and George as their chaperones.

"No kinky stuff around us you hear," Fred had joked as they walked out of the house.

Harry had been invited but he really didn't want to go out to lunch. Besides he would've felt like a third wheel. Ron and Hermione were a couple and the twins had brought along dates to help them chaperone. Of course Mrs. Weasley didn't know they were. She wouldn't have taking kindly to the idea of three teenage couples on a date together. Then again why she even trusted Fred and George for the job in the first place was still beyond Harry's comprehension.

After they had left him and Ginny played a game of wizard's chess. Both of them played pathetically so it wasn't much fun. About an hour later Ginny said she had to meet Luna in Diagon Alley so she got ready and then left without even bothering to inquire if Harry wanted to go. Though he didn't really want to go it would've been nice if she invited anyway.

So now it was just Harry and Remus _and_ Sirius' mother but she didn't really cause that much of a stir anymore.

Harry opened the kitchen door and walked down into it. Remus was sitting by the fire with a picture in his hand. The glow of the flames danced on Lupin's face and Harry could see the trail of tears running down his flushed cheeks.

"Hey," Harry whispered from the bottom of the stairs. Remus turned around, his eyes were rimmed with red and he looked as if a ton of bricks had just been laid on his very soul.

"Sorry I'll come back later," Harry turned for the door, sorrow already rising up in him again.

"No it's okay," Remus choked; his voice was full of a thousand tears.

Harry told himself crying was okay and that it didn't make him less of a man. "Nothing can change the past. Not crying, not anything. Sirius is dead Harry." Phineas' voice whispered in his pounding head. Harry pushed it away and strode across the room, all the while trying and failing to keep his own sadness buried deep inside him.

He plopped down onto the floor next to Remus and stared into the flames. They were dancing, a pagan dance of mourning from some long forgotten day and age. But all the same Harry knew what it was for it mirrored exactly how he felt. He wished he could just rid himself of all this pain, dance every last bit of it away. He'd heard somewhere that music freed the soul.

"Hypnotising aren't they?" Remus softly said looking straight into the heart of the fire.

"Yeah," Harry choked. More than anything he wanted Sirius to be there next to him. Then the house wouldn't be covered in the smothering blanket of sorrow that had settled on it preceding Sirius' death.

"My mom once told me that flames were the dancers in the dark and that no matter what they would always be there dancing and bringing to this world warmth."

Harry nodded, yet he felt no warmth or comfort from this fire. It was a funeral pyre for Sirius. It was a pagan fire. Harry stared into the flames. He could see the witches of long ago dancing around the burning pyre of their deceased sister. Their wailing filled Harry's ears, their tears rolled down his face.

Remus put his arm around Harry's shoulder and pulled him close. "It's okay Harry. Everything will be okay in the end."

"No it won't. I'll still see his death in my head. The look on his face will still haunt me. Not even a thousand years will make that go away." Harry wanted to hit something.

"Your right. But in time you'll come to accept it."

"How con you do this?!" Harry pulled away and stood up. "I come in here and you're balling your eyes out! Then I start and you tell me everything will be okay! What do you believe Lupin? Do you really think everything will be okay?"

Lupin's face became hard and grey. His usually sparkling blue eyes were icy and lifeless. "I do."

Harry crumpled to the floor in tears. "How can everything be okay?" he sobbed. "How can it be when I still see his face as he was falling?"

"That's why I gave you the box. I thought that maybe it would allow you to see who Sirius was before Azkaban killed his spirit, before he... I wanted you to be able to put that image of him dying to the many other images of him living."

Harry looked up into Lupin's face. "It wouldn't help." He choked back more tears.

A shadow of a smile flashed across Remus' face. "I think it would help. At first it may feel like it won't but after a while you'll begin to move through the grief. Even I'm a mess because of this Harry. But it's my job, as the adult, to watch over you. Make sure you get through this. That's why I'm telling you everything will be okay."

Harry sadly nodded cuddling up next to Remus. He stared at the picture that was in Lupin's lap.

It was snowing and a younger Remus was making snowballs. Sirius sauntered into the frame with a snowball behind his back. He held his finger to his lips and tip toed towards Remus. But he needn't do that. Remus spun around just then and launched a huge snowball right into Sirius' face.

Harry tried to laugh but it became more of a desperate sob. Remus smiled, a truly genuine smile, as he looked down at the picture,

"_Good-bye Sirius" _Remus thought watching as Sirius tackled him to the ground.

Harry felt his grief receding for the moment and as it did he remembered the reason for coming down here in the first place.

"Dumbledore is calling a meeting. Phineas said it was urgent." Harry sat up and hugged his knees.

"What?" Remus stood up.

"He showed up about five minutes ago and told me that Dumbledore wanted to talk to you in."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Remus rushed across the kitchen, any thought of grief gone. He grabbed his cloak off the rack and rushed up the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked standing up, he too forgetting his sorrows.

"Harry next time Phineas comes tell me right away. Okay?"

"Okay," Harry wondered what the rush was.

"Now stay out of trouble and I'll be back as soon as possible. Don't leave the house. Got that?"

"Sure. But where are you going?" Harry followed Remus to the hallway.

"I have to meet Albus. Lock the door after me," Remus rushed out of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Bye," Harry called, as the door slammed shut. He manually shut every single one of the magical locks on the door and then trudged up the stairs to his bedroom.

"_Wonder what is so important?" _he thought closing his bedroom door. The box was sitting there at the foot of his bed. Harry walked over and lifted up the top. Maybe it _would_ help.


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

Sitting on top was a leather bound notebook with stickers all over the front. They were faded with age and Harry couldn't make out what any of them said.

He lifted the journal out of the box and opened up to the first page. It was dated July 15, 1974. The handwriting was small and rushed much like his own. Opposite the page on the inside of the front cover was written: _The property of Sirius Black._

Harry's curiosity got the better of him and he began to read.

__

Well I just received letters from Durmstrang and Hogwarts. Mother was all ready to send me to Durmstrang but I told her that I wanted to go to Hogwarts. "But your brother is at Durmstrang." She actually believes that I would want to go with my brother. She's crazier than I thought. Then again Regulus always was her favourite. Which is understandable. I've always been considered the "white" sheep of the family.

I'm the only Black that doesn't have a morbid fascination with everything dark and evil. You should see my house. You can't walk five feet without something trying to strangle or eat you. Just yesterday I was attacked by some old purple robes that my dad had hanging up.

It took a better part of the day to break free. It could've been easier but my mother told me that I got myself into this mess so I can get myself out. Is it just me or do all parents good and_ evil enjoy making lessons out of every small little detail?_

Well anyway I eventually escaped by using a pair of scissors from a nearby table. After the first snip they backed off and that was the end of that. I was left with a few bruises on my chest and arms but nothing a little potion won't fix.

My room is the safest one in the house. There's a particularly nasty portrait of a wretched old witch but she's only capable of shrieking insults. And she really only does that when I lodge a dart in her canvas face.

But no matter how grating her voice may be the poor little witch was born without an imagination. Most of the time she shrieks "MURDERER!" Not to original if I say so myself.

"Then the whole world must be unoriginal," Harry thought. "Because that's what you'll be referred to as for thirteen years." He laughed though it really wasn't that funny.

He flipped to another page that had _August 6_ written in the corner. Already his interest was taking the place of his grief.

__

Regulus came to visit for a week. He's been in Bulgaria for the summer staying with one of his friends from school.

You should've seen mum. She actually had Kreecher clean the house for once. Can you believe that? Though that really isn't saying much. Kreecher is rather incompetent when it comes to domestic chores. His true talents lie in worshipping my parents. Father loves taking advantage of that fact. I walked into the bathroom once when… well let's just say I was scarred for life…

Harry felt bile rise up in his throat. He was hoping that what he thought Sirius was talking about really wasn't what Sirius was saying. But just to be safe Harry turned the page.

__

August 15

__

He's only been here 9 days and already I want him to go back to Bulgaria. He keeps talking about how great it is there and showing off all the neat little spells he's learned. Durmstrang students have very little control over what they are allowed to do over the holidays.

I guess that would be the only perk to actually attending that school but I guess it's too late now. I've already answered Hogwarts back telling them that I'd love to attend their school. Of course mum doesn't know that. She's still trying to convince me about Durmstrang. Wait till she finds out I've already answered Hogwarts.

Maybe it will give her a heart attack…

Harry laughed to himself as he scanned the next few pages. There was nothing that was all together interesting. Just Sirius complaining about his mum, his family, and his house.

The next entry to catch Harry's eye was written three days before Sirius was to leave for Hogwarts.

__

Mum didn't die, unfortunately. She did almost kill me though. She locked me in a room with a couple of Cornish pixies. Merlin it was awful. They bit several chunks out of my back before I was able to squash them.

Nasty little things, but they are mum's favourite form of punishment, them and the poltergeists. She let a few of them loose in the attack next. Poltergeists enjoy screwing with your mind. For three days straight I thought I was in the middle of the jungle being chased by a pack of wild Nundus. I could feel their deadly fetid breath on the back of my neck.

It was so horrible. After mum let me out I ran away. I am writing this in room number 5 at the Leaky Cauldron.

I've already purchased my books and supplies for school and in three days time I will be riding the Hogwarts Express away from this place.

Harry understood what Sirius was feeling. He remembered that for once in his life he felt free. Smiling Harry skipped forward to _September_ _1._

Well I'm here at Hogwarts in the first year boy's dormitory. And guess what I'm in Gryffindor! Can you believe that? I about near fell off the stool. Even though I'm nicer than most of my family I still expected to be placed in Slytherin.

I can't wait to send an owl to mum. She'd better have a heart attack this time or I may be forced to send her an owl with poison dust in the parchment. MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Anyway Hogwarts is so_ amazing. I can't believe I'm actually here. It's the perfect place to play pranks on people. There are a lot of shadows and corners to hide in._

I can't wait. I've even found a new partner in crime: James Potter. We met on the train and it seemed that within seconds we were planning some sort of prank or adventure. He said his goal is to create a map of the whole of Hogwarts, secret passages and all. This is going to be a good year.

James is also in Gryffindor along with HIM_._

Wait it seems I've forgotten to mention HIM. _Here is an account from the train station where I met Remus Lupin._

I walked into King's Cross-Station at 10:45. That's 15 minutes before the Hogwarts Express was set to leave platform 9 ¾. So I got a luggage cart and headed off towards platform ten. As I neared it I watched as a small group of people disappeared inside the column between platforms 9 and 10.

Picking up the pace I slipped through the bricks and found myself standing before a huge gleaming train. White smoke writhed around the ceiling.

Anyway I was making my way towards the train when I noticed another boy about the same age as I was. He had his hand clutched to his luggage cart as if his life depended on it. His appearance was that of a sick person but he was still somehow gorgeous.

He had sparkling sapphire eyes that were darting around in fear. I decided to go introduce myself as an excuse to get to talk to this fascinating boy.

He jumped when I came over. "Hello," he had quietly said.

I introduced myself.

Harry froze and stared at the page as if were somehow alien. He scanned to the bottom of the page and gasped.

__

I think I love Remus.

Harry shook his head and re-read the words. They hadn't changed.

"Remus and Sirius," Harry muttered. It somehow sounded weird. As he tried to comprehend what he had just read a glimmering light got his attention. The candlelight was reflecting off of a picture inside the box.

Harry reached his hand inside and pulled out a framed photo.

"Oh god," he said. The frame slipped from his hands and fell with a clunk to the floor.

It glared up at him. There was Sirius kissing the side of Remus' face passionately. Remus was smiling happy. In the corner was Sirius' messy scrawl.

__

XOXOXOXO Love,

Sirius


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three:

Betrayal. That was the first thing he felt after the initial shock wore off. Why had he never been told? Why had he been left in the dark all this time?

Had they thought he was too immature to understand? Or maybe they believed that somehow he would be disgusted.

He looked back down at the picture lying there on the floor. Never had he seen that much life and happiness in Remus' eyes. Sighing he picked it up and rubbed off a thin layer of dust.

Remus waved at him as Sirius' tongue wiggled against his cheek. Harry laughed. They looked so young and happy, totally oblivious to the years of hardship ahead of them.

Harry felt the pit of his stomach sink. He wondered if he'd ever be that happy. There wasn't a sign of worry on either of their faces, and it seemed that was all that Harry was ever doing. Worrying.

What was Voldermort up to? May I die today? Will my friends die? Will I fail the prophecy?

These thoughts bounced about his already jumbled head on a regular basis. The only time he ever had any reprieve from them was as he slept, but even then they came back in different forms. On more than one occasion he had woken up bathed in hot, sticky sweat.

Feeling jealous he set the picture on his bed next to the journal and decided to come back to them later.

His attention moved to the box again. He reached his hand in and pulled out a folded scarlet robe. They were a set of old quidditch robes. Embroidered across the back was 'J. Potter.'

Harry caressed his fingers across the raised lettering. He wondered if it would fit him. Quickly he threw it on over his emerald jumper. It was an almost perfect fit. A bit loose in the shoulders but that didn't matter much.

The robes had a reminiscent scent of cologne and sweat. Harry buried his nose into his shoulders and breathed it in.

A memory came back to him.

'_Please go to sleep Harry,' James pleaded as he held a crying Harry in his arms. 'Just snuggle up and sleep.' He had black rings under his eyes. _

_Lily walked in and smiled at Harry who was staring over his father's shoulder. His tears instantly stopped and a small yawn escaped his mouth._

_Harry curled up against his father's chest and drifted of to sleep. Those smells of cologne and sweat were filling his little nose._

Harry smiled at the memory and walked over to the wardrobe. He opened up one of the doors and studied himself. It was eerie how alike his appearance was to that of James'.

He was so engrossed in this thought that he didn't hear the door behind him open.

"It's a bit late to be playing quidditch isn't it?"

Harry nearly jumped through the ceiling. A tinkle of laughter filled the room.

Grinning, he turned around to face his best friends on this planet. The void he felt while they were gone instantly filling up.

"Did you guys have a nice time?" Harry asked shutting the wardrobe.

Ron's ear began to glow pink. "Well it went fine if you enjoy watching your brother's snogging their girlfriends the whole night."

"Honestly Ron," Hermione said, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed. "It wasn't the _whole _night. More like a good fraction of it."

"Anyway it would've been better if mum had let Harry chaperone. But she said that it was preposterous. We needed more adult supervision. _That_ turned out well."

"You need to stop being so cynical, Ron," Hermione stated. Harry rolled his eyes. He wondered if there was a moment when they weren't bickering. "So much negativity isn't good for your health."

Ron was about to retort but Harry threw his hand over his mate's mouth. "Would it hurt either of you to _not _fight for more the five seconds?"

"Sorry Harry," Hermione said looking behind her at the box. "So what have you been up to? Packing for something." She looked pointedly at the box.

"And what's with the musty Quidditch robe?" Ron added, plopping down onto the bed next to Hermione.

"Actually that's a box of Sirius' and my dad's old stuff. Remus brought it down here in hopes that it would cheer me up. And the robe was my father's."

"That's awesome," Ron said turning around to study the stuff. The first thing he picked up was the picture of Remus and Sirius. For a second he just stared it then began to laugh. "Sirius really did enjoy to joke around." He showed the picture to Hermione, still laughing.

Harry stared at Ron thinking his laughter seemed a bit forced. Hermione took the picture, giggling slightly. Ron picked up Sirius' journal.

"They were so cute together," she whispered sadly caressing Sirius' picture.

'_She knew?' _Harry felt his anger at not being told rise again. '_I was his godson. How come I didn't know?'_

Hermione looked up into his eyes and saw the anger and jealousy in them. "I could just tell," she stated, looking back down at the picture. "It was rather obvious when you saw them together."

That made Harry feel stupid.

"Call it girl intuition," Hermione added.

That must be one of those many mysteries that Hermione was always trying to explain to him and Ron.He still didn't know why she didn't put it all in a book. He knew tons of guys that would love to figure out the secrets of the female mind. She could be rich.

"Call what girl intuition?" Ron asked looking up from the journal.

"Oh never mind, Ron." Hermione said in exasperation. "We were just talking. You don't always have to know what's going on."

"_Hermione,_" Harry warned, raising his eyebrow. "What did I say about being good?"

"Right. So Ron anything interesting in that old journal?" Hermione asked pleasantly, looking down at the page Ron had it open to.

"I'll say." He looked up at Harry. "You're dad and Sirius make Fred and George look like absolute angels. Listen to this.

"'_Last night James and I slipped into Filch's office and set off a load of dungbombs. But not before stealing all of the confiscated items, which we strategically placed in Snape's quidditch locker. I can't wait to see his face during Broom flying this afternoon when they all come tumbling onto his greasy head. Filch is in a rage so Snape will definitely be busted for it. No questions asked. It is going to so awesome. Well McGonnagall is yelling at me to listen so I'd better go.'_

"These guys were bloody geniuses," Ron laughed jumping ahead to the next page to see if Snape had been busted.

'_Oh yes absolutely brilliant,' _Harry thought, remembering the scene he had witnessed in Snape's pensieve.

"Filch fell for it!" Ron shouted, bursting into a bout of loud laughing. "Snape was given a week of detentions. Though Sirius supposed he only got off so lightly was because Filch had an idea that it wasn't Snape. But he didn't know whom so he used Snape as his scapegoat. We should so try this on Draco."

"That is actually rather tempting," Harry said walking over to the box and looking inside of it.

"Oh Ronald that is so immature. Why can't you just grow up?" Hermione snapped grabbing the journal from him. "Let's see if there is something a little more mellow in here to read about Sirius."

She flipped to the back and studied the page she had turned to. As she read her cheeks began to glow with embarrassment. "Well that was a _bit_ too informative," Hermione said uncomfortably shutting the journal.

"What? Was he talking about shagging a girl?" Ron asked hopefully trying to wrestle the journal from Hermione's grip.

"Not exactly." She gave Harry a knowing look. Harry laughed. He wondered if Remus knew what was written in the journal when he had brought it to him.

"He wasn't talking about some weird sado stuff? Was he?" Ron pulled away from the journal like it was the plague.

"Harry are you up there?" Someone shouted form the hallway, the voice was full a sadness and age.

"Yeah!" Harry yelled, folding up his father's robe.

Remus stepped into the room. His face was puffy and red, as if he had been crying.

"Oh my god," Hermione gasped, looking at Lupin's face. "What's happened?"

_Remus stared at them for a second trying to collect himself. "Kingsley is dead."_


	5. Chapter Four

A/n: In this chapter I'm following the narrative from when Kingsley's body is discovered to when news reaches the order. So bear with me and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Four:

"Did you get it?" Twitch asked, cracking his knuckles nervously. His gaze swivelled around the dark alley just in case someone was following them.

"Of course I got. When Lance Derrick makes a promise he sticks to it. The real question is do _you_ have the money, Twitch?" A large man stepped out from the shadows. His chin was covered in blonde stubble and he had a pink scar running down his left cheek. A large hand was clamped onto a gun hidden inside his coat.

"Yeah man I got the cash. It wasn't easy to get and I did some things I never thought I'd do." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a brown paper bag. "Here it is."

Derrick reached out his free hand and roughly grabbed the bag from Jay's grip. "Is it all here?" he asked eyeing his jumpy client suspiciously. "Cuz if it ain't then I'll have to blow your brains out." Lance pulled back his coat to flash the gun at his side.

"It's all there man. I promise." Twitch's head swerved quickly to the left as a cat jumped noisily up onto a fence.

Lance chuckled to himself. "Are you really sure you need this stuff?" he asked playfully, waving a plastic bag in front of Twitch's face. The young man's eye followed the movement of the bag closely. When he made to reach for it the dealer pulled it quickly away. "I'm mean you already seem a bit tweaked as it is. I would be neglecting my obligations as a citizen if I let you take yourself over the line." Lance made a show of sticking the bag back into the coat of his leather coat. Even though the night was rather stuffy he still insisted on wearing his jacket.

"Cut the bullshit, man. Just give me the stuff." Twitch began to crack his knuckles again, trying to watch every corner of the dark in his sight at all times.

"That's wasn't a very polite way to ask," Lance laughed. He always had the most fun when he was messing with the junkies. Last night he had gotten a blow-job from some sixteen-year-old girl he was dealing to, and that was on top of the money.

Unfortunately Twitch didn't have anything he needed so this was just for a bit of sport.

"I said cut the bullshit," Twitch growled impatiently. "I need the stuff _now_. So cut the crap." He reached for a knife in his back pocket.

Lance's gaze followed his client's hand. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Twitch," he warned pointing his gun at the young man's chest.

A cop car sped passed the mouth of the alley heading to a car accident three blocks over. Its red and blue lights filled the alley for a brief second.

Twitch and Lance nearly jumped out of their skins. Taking this chance Twitch pulled out his knife and plunged it into his dealer's side. The man howled in pain grabbing his bleeding side.

"Now give me my shit," Twitch commanded, prepared to attack again.

"You bastard." Lance aimed his gun at Twitch's head and pulled the trigger. The bullet just grazed the young man's cheek leaving a streak of blood.

A light somewhere above them turned on. Twitch squeaked and ran into the darkness. Lance shot randomly in the direction the druggie had dashed while trying to not to faint from his blood loss.

Twitch heard the shots behind him and sped up as if the sound of them was some whip in the hands of a cruel slave driver.

As he checked for a pursuit his feet tripped into something warm. Twitch fell to the dirty street scraping the palms of his hand. Scrambling to his feet he peered through the darkness to see what he had tripped over. He swung his arms out till they fell into a large cold mound. He moved his face closer.

He was staring at a body. It was a large black man with a golden hoop in his left ear. A stick was lying at his side in a puddle of blood. Something was scratched into his head but Twitch couldn't make it out. He pulled his hands away in horror.

The sounds of approaching sirens woke him from his morbid curiosity. With one last look at the body he ran out of the alley and disappeared into the night.

**At the coroner's office**

"Did he have any identification on him?" Chief Inspector Hunter asked the coroner, looking pointedly at the man covered by a white sheet.

"Yes he did. He had a badge of some sort. His name was Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"A badge?"

"Yep. It's over there on the table," the coroner absent-mindedly said, scribbling some stuff in his report on the deceased.

Hunter wandered over to the table. A pair of black dress pants and a blood stained white shirt were sitting there neatly folded. A golden pocket watch glimmered in the florescent lighting humming overhead.

The Chief Inspector slipped his hand into a latex glove and picked up a small silver badge. On it was some sort of seal. Two sticks crossing each other with a set of balancing scales in the background. Across the bottom was a word that struck the inspector as rather odd.

"What do you suppose Auror means?" he asked the coroner, flipping the badge over. The name 'Kingsley Shacklebolt' was embossed on the silver surface.

"Your guess is as good as mine," the coroner said pulling the white sheet off of the man's body.

Hunter set the badge back onto the metal table and sauntered over to the medical table. He stared down at the body not even flinching.

"How did he die?" the Inspector wondered, not seeing any visible wounds.

"We don't know," the examiner muttered.

"You don't know?" Hunter asked confusedly. "How can you not know. That's why we throw all that money at you so you can determine how someone died."

"Th-that's true," the coroner stuttered. "But our tests show that man was in perfect health. The only noticeable damage was on the top of his head. And that was done post-mortem."

Hunter moved down to the head of the table and stared at the large black man's bald head. Scratched into his dark skin was a menacing skull with a snake slithering from its mouth. Hunter felt a sickening feeling rising in his stomach.

He'd seen that symbol somewhere before. But he couldn't remember.

"Sir?"

Hunter shook his head and looked over at the coroner. "Are you okay? You looked like you had seen a ghost."

"I'm fine. I guess I'm just a bit tired that's all. Have you made a sketch of that?"

"Your partner was down here a little while ago. She got everything."

"Yes, well I guess I'll go up and see her. See if she has any hunches on what this could be."

"Have a good night Inspector." The coroner nodded his head.

"You too, John."

**Hunter's Office**

"So what do you think, Alicia?" Hunter asked his partner five minutes later. "About the carving I mean?"

"Well," Alicia said shuffling through a folder. "We don't have it any of our reports but I still think it may be gang related. He might've been a dealer."

"What makes you think that?" Hunter dropped a tea bag into a steaming cup.

"We found this near his body," she said in a low smoky voice passing her boss a picture.

The Inspector stared at the needle in the picture. It was lying right near the victim's right arm.

"Did you dust it for prints?" he asked setting the picture on his cluttered desk. A picture of his late wife smiled up at him.

"Yep. They belonged to this man." Alicia handed him a thin smile. Hunter opened it up and looked down at a frowning young man with short brown hair and clod decisive eyes.

"His name is Jay Harris but on the streets he goes by the name Twitch. One of our men picked him up a couple of months ago for possession but he was released on bail. He still lives with his mum."

Hunter scanned through the file but nothing caught his eye. He shut it and through it on top of the picture from the scene. Pulling the tea bag out of his cup he stirred in some sugar and took a small soothing sip.

"So he had contact with our man? Were they sharing a needle or something?" Hunter asked tipping a stream of hot tea into his mouth.

"Our man was clean. He did have Twitch's finger prints on his shirt. So that leads me to think that Twitch may have killed him."

Hunter set down his cup and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "So let's get this straight. Our man, Kingsley, was most likely a dealer. He must've screwed Twitch over somehow and in a rage the little guy killed him."

"That's the conclusion I came to," Alicia said, her red hair framing her pale face.

"So where does the carving come in?" Hunter remembered the horrible bloody picture etched into the dead man's scalp.

"That's the only missing piece of the puzzle. Why don't you take a look at the sketch I did? Maybe it will make better sense to you." She set the sketch on the Inspector's desk.

His eye throbbing nervously Hunter picked it up and peered at it, beads of sweat rolling down his face.

A pale green light splashed over his mind. He saw the skull floating over a small white house. A writhing snake protruded from its mouth. Beneath it in a manicured lawn was the bodies of five people, a man, woman, and three little children. A small baby was clutched to its mother's side.

Hunter gasped and dropped the picture to the floor. His breathing was rough and coming in short bursts. Quickly he sat in his leather chair, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

"Are you okay?" Alicia inquired her hand near the phone ready to call for medical attention. Worry lines creased her ivory face.

"I'm fine," Hunter answered in a raspy voice, clutching his thudding chest. "I'm just a little tired that's all. I had trouble sleeping last night."

"Okay," Alicia said sceptically, picking her sketch up off the hard wood floor and setting it back on the inspector's desk. "Can I get you anything?"

Get me the address of Mister Shacklebolt's residence. If that is really his actual name."

"Yes sir. Will you be okay?" She looked back at him from the doorway.

"Of course I will. Now get!"

Hunter sat back in his chair and stared at the picture thoughtfully trying to recall the images that had just rushed though his mind. Nothing.

**Kingsley's Apartment**

"This is the place?" Hunter stared at a derelict old apartment building in the bad part of town. "Not exactly what I'd call a home for a dealer."

Alicia looked down at the notebook in her hands. "Yep this is the place. Property taxes on a place like this are hell of a lot cheaper than the mansions our normal dealers live in."

"Well let's go up there and give the news to the misses," Hunter said in a resigned voice, staring up at the darkening sky.

The lobby of the building was a bit run down but it seemed to be holding up just fine. The cracked linoleum floors shimmered in the pool of light from the rusted chandelier hanging above it.

A small black woman was bustling down a flight of stairs, dragging behind her a large trunk. A small boy hopped down after her. He was wearing a blue robe. The woman Hunter presumed to be the boy's mother had on a dark red cloak.

"Hurry up, Cal," she said in a distraught voice, fear filled her dark eyes. "We have to get out of here."

"Where are we going?" the boy asked, pretending to fly around the lobby.

"We are going to visit some of your father's friends." She let out a strangled cry when the trunk fell to the floor, scraping the back of her ankle.

"Do you need any help, miss?" Hunter offered, walking over to her. Alicia followed closely behind.

The woman looked up at him with suspicion; her eyes were red and puffy. As if she had been crying. "I can manage just fine thanks. Cal! Stop misbehaving or the lethifold will come and get you."

The boy squeaked in fear and ran to his mother's side. The perfect little angel.

"Cute kid you have there," Alicia said, with a tone of laughter in her voice.

"Thank you. I don't mean to be rude but we really need to get out of here." Her voice had a sense of urgency about. She looked nervously around the lobby.

"We'll only be a second. Do you know a Mrs. Shacklebolt?" Hunter asked.

The woman's face paled. "Don't know who you talking 'bout," she said grabbing Cal's hand. "Come on sweetie we need to go." She attempted to break for the door but Alicia stood in her way.

"We'll only take a second of your time," the red-haired woman said in the friendliest voice she could muster. "We just want to ask you a few questions."

"Stay away from me and my baby," she shouted, pulling out a long stick. "I'm warning you." She pointed it right at Alicia.

She gave Hunter a quizzical look as if to ask if the woman was mental.

"We don't want to hurt you," he calmly stated holding up his hands.

"Do you recognise this?" Alicia pulled out her sketch of the carving and showed it to the woman.

The woman screamed, grabbed her son and for the doors just as a short young woman walked in. Her face fell when she saw the state the other woman was in.

"Is everything okay, Ursula?" She had bright pink hair and an aqua robe on.

"Death Eaters!" Ursula screeched, pointing at Alicia and Hunter. Cal was cowering behind her shaking in fear.

The new arrival also pulled out a stick, hers shorter than the other's.

The young woman stared at them. Hunter reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge. He flashed it for both women to see. "I'm Chief Inspector Hunter. My partner, Alicia, and I are investigating the murder of Kingsley Shacklebolt, a tenant here."

"They're not Death Eaters, Ursula," the woman whispered. "They're just muggle please men."

"Are you sure, Tonks?" Ursula asked fearfully.

"Yes, I'm sure. Come on let's go. Albus has called a meeting and we need to get you into hiding for a while."

Before Hunter could stop them they ran out the doors. He and Alicia dashed out onto the sidewalk but there was no one there. They looked up and down the street but it was empty. Like they had disappeared into thin air.

"That was weird," Alicia said, scribbling away in her notebook.

"Yes, very interesting. I think we have something bigger then just a dealer getting killed. I think we have stumbled onto a ring of dealers and a drug war to boot. Did you hear what that woman said? 'Albus has called a meeting and we need to get you into hiding...' This is big. Did you get everything?"

"Yep," Alicia confirmed, reading over her notes. "So what are we going to do? We just lost his wife." She snapped the notebook shut and slipped into her breast pocket.

"We're going back to the station. I want to put together an entire team. I won't have any drug rings and wars in my town."

**Number 12 Grimmauld Place**

"Dead..." Harry croaked, sitting down on Ron's creaky bed.

"Yes," Lupin sniffled, trying to keep his composure. "He was found in an alley a few blocks from here. Someone... someone carved the dark mark into his head.

Hermione burst into tears. Ron enveloped her into a hug, letting her head rest on his chest. His own tears dropped into Hermione's poofy hair.

Harry watched them wishing that he could cry. But no tears wanted to come.

"Where's Ginny?" Remus asked Harry, letting Ron and Hermione grieve.

"She went to Diagon Alley with Luna," Harry answered darkly, his body tensed up in worry and fear. His body had only been found two blocks from here. Was it possible Voldermort knew where they were.

"Don't worry," Remus said, as if reading Harry's thoughts. "The only way Voldermort could find this place is if Dumbledore told him. And I doubt that will ever happen."

"But what if...?"

Remus cut Harry off. "I don't have time for this. I'm sorry, Harry. I have to go and get Ginny. You three do not leave, under any circumstance."

Harry nodded. Ron looked up at Remus through blood shot eyes and nodded as well. Hermione continued to cry.

"Everything will be okay," Remus said before leaving the room.

There was that phrase again.

"Nothing will ever be okay," Harry muttered. The faces of his parent's and Sirius floated in his mind. How could it be with so much death?


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five:

Outside Grimmauld Place Remus slipped into the shadows and quickly disapparated.

He reappeared in front of Flourish and Blotts. Witches and wizards of assorted eccentricity bustled past him clutching their parcels and purchases closely to their robed and cloaked bodies.

Next to the bright colours and pleasant atmosphere Remus seemed to be the harbinger of doom. A grey cloud seemed almost to cling to his body and waves of sadness spilled out over the stone ground.

Putting his wand away he solemnly walked down the crowded street looking for signs of a girl with bright red hair.

"Ginny!" he called; his voice almost cracking with grief. He couldn't believe it. Kingsley was dead. He had seen him less than twenty-four hours ago. The image of the Dark Mark scratched into his head threatened to send Remus over the edge.

"Auror dead!" shouted a young boy with messy brown hair. "Found in a muggle alley!" He held up a copy of the Daily Prophet. A picture of Kingsley Shacklebolt smiled at Remus.

This time he really did break down. He sat on a street corner holding his face in his hands. Tears stained his worn leather gloves.

James was dead. Sirius was dead. Lily was dead. Kingsley was dead. People he had known and cared about were leaving him in the dark. They abandoned him and at times he felt so alone. Like there was no one in the world that would ever be able to save him from the darkness.

If only Romulus were still alive. He would've been able to save Remus. With his brotherly love and unwaveringly devotion to protecting Remus from all the things that went bump in the night.

But he was just as dead as the rest of them. Killed trying to protect Remus from the werewolf that eventually bit him. The night came back to Remus in small flashes.

A dark forest. He was lost. Glowing green eyes. White fangs. Running and screaming. Romulus standing up to the creature. Remus cradled his dying brother in his arms. "Don't leave me." "I'll always be with you, Remus." The werewolf came back and bit Remus. Pain. Hurt. Tears. Quiet. White rooms. Bright lights. Healers. "No way to reverse it."

The tears came even harder soaking through the leather.

"Are you okay, sir?" whispered a young voice. It was filled with compassion and care.

Remus looked up into the face of a little witch. Her hair was blonde and she had empathetic violet eyes.

He wiped away the tears, nodding. "I'm okay."

"If you're okay then why are you crying so much?"

She was so innocent. That was the moment Remus knew why life was worth living. Why this war was worth fighting. Innocence.

His whole life he had been trying to answer and it finally came in the form of an angelic five-year-old.

"My friend died," he told her, trying not to cry again.

"I'm sorry." She leaned forward and gave him a small hug. "Feel better." Then she disappeared into the crowd, almost as if she had never been there.

Remus stood up, wiped away the rest of his tears, breathed in deeply, and decided from this moment he wouldn't let grief pull him down. He had to be strong. Because if he didn't he'd be letting down all the innocence in the world.

With a stronger sense about him Remus continued down Diagon Alley looking for Ginny. He finally spotted her outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Her and Luna were sharing a chocolate shake and talking.

"Daddy's planning an expedition to Africa. There are rumours of a lion born with the ability to tell the future. He says it will be the biggest story of the decade." Luna's airy mystical voice floated across the air.

Ginny looked up passed and saw Remus moving towards her. She waved happily and urged him to come sit with them.

"We have to go, Ginny," he said in a stern voice. She stared at him with a baffled look on her face.

"What happened?" Her voice became frantic. She tried to pry the answer from Remus' eyes but he shut them tightly. Succeeding in holding back the tears.

"We can't talk about it here but your mother wants you back at headquarters immediately." His sacred, shaky voice was enough to get Ginny onto her feet.

Just then the newspaper boy moved closer to them and his ringing voice shot through the crowd.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt! Dead! Read all about it!"

Ginny's eyes widened. She flung her hand over her mouth. "Oh god," she cried, sitting back down.

Luna's usually glazed eyes glistened with a deep sadness. She scooted her chair closer to Ginny's and held the girl in her arms. "It will be okay," she whispered in a soothing voice, petting Ginny's red hair.

Remus felt a pang of jealously. He wished someone would hold him like that.

"I'm coming with you, father won't mind," Luna said, dabbing away Ginny's tears.

Remus sighed. "It's not that easy, Luna. We can't just let people in at random."

"I don't think..." Luna's voice dropped, her misty eyes widening in a surprise.

"What's the matter?" Remus asked in worry, watching as a shadow darkened her face.

"Lupin," purred a smoky voice.

He spun around reaching for his wand. The woman standing there was a complete stranger. But that's when he saw her eyes. Half sane, half wild, fully dangerous.

"Bellatrix?" He sputtered in fright, moving to block the two girls.

"The one and only." She pulled a black velvet hood away from her now blonde head. "How do you like the new do?" She smiled at him crazily.

&

A/n: Dun, dun, dun. Bwahahahaha!


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six:

The Riddle House stood on the hill overlooking Little Hangleton with ivy crawling up its once elegant walls. No light penetrated the crusted, dirty windows with moth eaten curtains hanging in them.

The residents in the small village below avoided the house. There was just something "Unnatural" about it. First the mysterious deaths of the less than popular Riddle's and then the equally mysterious death of the long-time caretaker Frank. Not to mention that someone broke into the Riddle's son Tom's grave and removed his body. No, the villagers preferred to keep their lives as normal as was humanly possible.

Inside the house smelled of rot, must, and decay. The walls were blackened with age resting in the eternal darkness that enveloped the house. The only clean thing was the floor. Long trails slithered through the dust and dirt moving all over the house.

In an old damp library Lord Voldermort stood in front of a once rich and extravagant fireplace staring at the faded picture of an elderly couple. Between them was a tall man with wavy black hair. None of the were smiling.

A long, reptilian arm reached out of the folds of the Lord's billowing black robes and touched the picture lightly. A pair of slanted red eyes studied the young man carefully, flicking up and down his frozen composure.

"My dear father," hissed a high, cold voice emitted from a pair of lifeless, white lips. "Did you ever love mother?"

The picture's cold, grey eyes stared back stonily. Voldermort held the gaze as his spidery fingers moved up the canvas. His long nails stopped at Tom Riddle Senior's neck and began to dig into the portrait. "I so wish that I could have put you through the pain that you made me suffer. I was naïve. I did not have the respect for pain that I have now. Do you know what it feels like to have your very being ripped from your body by your own power? Do you have any idea how much pain I went through to get this magnificent body of mine? DO YOU?!"

His fingernails slashed across the painting leaving a deep gash right through his father's throat. "No you don't. How could you? You kicked a pregnant women out onto the streets. You were a cold, heartless bastard. You aren't my father. You're just the man that slept with my mother."

Voldermort turned his back to the painting his eyes moving to a bowed figure standing in the doorway. The little, quivering man held a silver chalice in his hands, one of which was made of silvery smoke. "Rise my loyal Wormtail," Voldermort said, his dry voice sending chills down Peter's spine.

The rat held the silver chalice out, flinching as the Dark Lord's long fingers brushed his hand.

"Is Bellatrix back yet?" Voldermort asked sipping the snake venom. It burned his throat as it went down. His red eyes rolled back in ecstasy.

"No sir," Peter stuttered. "But the Auror is dead."

"Good. That should shake them up a bit. Remember Peter fear can be your greatest weapon. It never fails to bring out the worst in mankind. You for example."

Peter's head twitched nervously. "Your fear of my power drove you to betray your best friend. You sentenced him and his wife to death." A smile flicked across the monstrous face of the Dark Lord as Wormtail squeaked and started to nervously scratch himself behind the ear. "Fear is a powerful thing. It will be the undoing of our dear Harry Potter."

Peter breathed in with excitement at the thought of Potter dead. "Shall we kill one of his little friends?"

"No! That wouldn't scare him. That would piss him off. The Auror showed Dumbledore's dear Order that we are everywhere watching them. We shouldn't have known he was in the Order. Killing one of Potter's friend would do the opposite. It would infuriate him to the point that I fear many of my Death Eaters would be killed. The boy has power. I didn't want to see it before but it's there. Untrained and untapped but there. The last thing we want is a wizard with no control over a vast amount of power."

In one sip Voldermort finished up the venom and tossed the chalice to the ground. It made a dull clunk against the carpet of dust. "No, we need something that will frighten Potter to the very core of his being. Something big."

&

"Shouldn't you be with your Dark Lord kissing his clammy, white feet?" Remus asked, pulling Ginny and Luna tight against his back. His voice shook with fear.

Bellatrix giggled. "Now be nice, Remus. I'm not here to hurt anyone, for now. I just wanted to apologise." A wide, wicked grin spread across her face. Blonde curls fell over her empty, black eyes.

"For what?" Remus asked, slowly backing away. Ginny's hand dug into his side.

"For killing Sirius, the love of your life." She giggled, twirling around happily. "He muttered your name as he fell back. 'Remus…' It makes me all warm and fuzz inside just thinking about it." She clasped her abdomen smiling at Remus.

Remus stood there glaring at her trying to fight back the wave of pain that was washing through his body. "You will not rule me," he muttered pulling out his wand. "My fate will not be sealed by the whispers of a mad woman."

For a split second fear filled Bellatrix's eyes but she quickly reigned it in drawing her own wand. A smile of excitement spread across her face never reaching her dead eyes. "Do you really want to fight me, Lupin? Are you prepared to show me want an _animal _you can really be?"

"When I say go, run," Remus whispered to Ginny. She nodded, her face quivering with fear. He turned and stared straight into Bellatrix's eyes. "I won't fight you. That's what you want. My duty is to protect these children."

"Oh well. I'll still fight you." Her hand shot out quickly, a blast of red light emitting from the tip of her.

"Run!" Remus shouted, ducking the spell. Ginny and Luna darted into the crowds their hands clasped tightly together. Bellatrix tried to shoot at them but she couldn't find them in the throng of the people forming a ring around her and Lupin.

Remus stood up and aimed his wand at Bellatrix's leather clad chest. A slow anger boiled his blood as he saw Sirius fall into the veil and out of this world. He tried to suppress the anger but more than anything he wanted to see Bellatrix die before she could ruin anymore lives. "Avada Kedavra!" he shouted. A bolt of green light sped towards Bellatrix.

The crowd screamed and fell to the cobblestone alley.

Time slowed down and Remus stared at Bellatrix's grinning face through the haunting green light heralding her death. There was a sparkle of triumph in her eyes as she leapt out of the way and disappeared with a loud snap. The spell hit a brick wall and disappeared into the atmosphere.

Remus fell to his knees with exhaustion. There was a sickly paleness to his face that made him look like a walking corpse.

Ginny and Luna broke through the ring of frightened onlookers and stood there staring at Remus. He looked up at them sadly. He had lost. Bellatrix had brought the anger and pain out of him.

"He used an Unforgivable," someone yelled. "He tried to kill that woman."

Ginny spun to face the crowd, her brown eyes burning with anger. "That _woman _was Bellatrix Lestrange."

Everyone in the crowd stood there in silence, panic and fear creeping across their faces. Pale and frightened they began to slowly move towards the doorways in case Bellatrix showed up again.

Ginny and Luna lifted Remus up off the ground. His feet threatened to give out beneath the weight that pressed down upon his soul. Ginny wrapped her sturdy arm around his thin waist to keep him stable. "Let's get back to the house before we're ambushed by any other Death Eaters," she said, a forced grin plastered to her face.

Remus looked down at her through weary eyes and smiled. "That's the best idea I've heard all day."

Several men separated from the crowd and circled around Lupin. Ministry badges glittered in the sunlight. Remus' face fell and he pushed Ginny away from him. "Go back to the house. Tell Dumbledore everything that happened." His tired body straightened and looked right into the Ministry Officials' eyes. Gone was the ragged, tired man that Ginny knew. Before her stood a man with the majestic, kingly stature of a wolf. Not one excuse left his lips.

Ginny looked from him to the men and stepped away. They let her and Luna out of the circle before tightening their ranks.

Ginny grabbed Luna's hand and began running through the gathering crowd. She had to get to Dumbledore. If anyone could sort this out it would be him.

&


End file.
